Nihongo? Iie? Kuso Japanese? No? Damn
by Braidless Baka
Summary: Basically it's a fic about poor lil Omi-kun and his ordeals in an American school... Bullying, racial discrimination, blah blah blah... although that's not the main angst... I shall up the low rating as and when I see fit! Enjoy minna!
1. Chapter 1

**Nihongo? Iie? Kuso...**

**AN:** Just for those of us who think that nobody knows more about Weiss than them, I know that it's set in Tokyo. But I wondered what it would be like to put them in America for a few weeks... I really don't know much about Weiss since I've only seen the first five episodes, so if you have a tantalising piece of info to share where I've gone wrong then please do. One more point, I am a Brit by breeding, so maybe I'm not the best person to be writing a fic about the Japanese in America, but that's why my spelling my look odd to some of you! Anyway! Enjoy! R+R kudasai! Domo! 

_"How... how can you come back to life? Twice?"   
"I don't like Hell."_   
- Kase and Ken - Weiss Kreuz - Episode 4 

**Chapter 1**

"Omi?"   
Glancing up from the monitor briefly, Omi grunted to indicate his attention.   
Ken sighed at the younger boy before continuing. "You okay?"   
Omi nodded slightly, his keen gaze on the computer screen.   
"School okay?"   
_"Hai..."_ [Yes...]   
"Omi?" uttered Ken with with a sharp gaze.   
Omi looked up, confused. "Huh?"   
"English please?"   
_"Doushite?"_ [Why?] murmured Omi stubbornly.   
"Why?" mimicked Ken. "Because you're learning it at school. You need the practise."   
_"Demo, Ken-kun..."_ [But Ken...]   
Ken frowned. _"Hai, Omi-kun?"_ [Yes, Omi?]   
"Fine," grumbled Omi. "I shall exercise my perfect English skills." After allowing Ken to know he'd achieved his victory, Omi continued clacking away at the keyboard. He could feel Ken watching him as the typed, but he didn't care. He hated the whole schooling system here; it was nothing like in Japan. Grades? You know? What on earth? K-12 education? Huh? There was no way this could be so complicated. But it was.   
Omi wouldn't mind, except that he was usually top of his class. His computing class anyway. But they had American keyboards. Who designed those? With the change of keyboard, the Japanese boy's typing speed had dropped dramatically, confusing teachers who had seen his previous grades. Although Omi's typing speed was picking up, it was nothing like what it had once been.   
And English... Omi's spoken English was fairly good; it had to be with all the talking he had to do in school. However, his written English left a lot to be desired. And it was assumed that, if Omi could speak the language, he could write it just as well.   
Pitching forward suddenly, Omi gripped the back of his head as a soccer ball came flying into it. His forehead glanced off the monitor, and the seventeen-year-old sat, slightly dazed, looking for the source of the attack.   
Ken, picked up the ball guiltily. _"Gomen ne Omi-kun..."_ [Sorry Omi...]   
Omi smiled at Ken's apology, still rubbing at his head, which was more painful than it should have been. Omi knew why, but he wasn't telling. "Be more careful?"   
Ken nodded and, holding the ball under an arm loosely, peered over Omi's shoulder. "What're you doing?"   
Omi sighed, fighting off irritation that came with lack of sleep. "Homework."   
"What homework are you doing?"   
"Hard homework."   
Ken frowned to himself. "English again huh?"   
Nodding, Omi rubbed his eyes and covered a huge yawn, scratching his bangs under his cap absently while staring at the screen.   
"Shouldn't you be getting some rest?" With almost brotherly care, Ken pulled Omi's cap off his head. "You look beat..."   
Again, the seventeen-year-old nodded. "Yeah, I feel beat too..."   
"So go to bed," murmured Ken, gesturing slightly towards the four beds in the room, two unoccupied for several nights. Ken wondered about Omi's too. "Not too far to walk, I'll guess five paces at most."   
At Ken's words, Omi stopped typing and looked up. "No matter how tired I feel Ken, I have to do the work here. If I don't do it now, I'm going to fail in school."   
The words were drawn out with such certainty that Ken blinked and mentally took a pace backwards. He glanced at the screen behind Omi, who was by now obviously irritated.   
What he saw Omi typing amazed him. Shakespeare? Who was dumb enough to give a kid who was only just learning to grasp English and entire essay on English literature to do? And just from looking at it, Ken could see numerous grammatical errors in the poor boy's work.   
Forcibly, Ken twirled the chair Omi sat on to face him. "You are going to bed. Now."   
Omi looked up in surprise. "Huh?"   
"You are going to go to bed right now and get a decent night's sleep. When did you fall asleep last night? Or the night before that?"   
Blearily, Omi blinked. "Twelve o'clock... One maybe?"   
"Try later than that," muttered Ken, shaking his head.   
"Three?"   
"I woke up at four this morning and you were still sitting here." Ken paused dramatically before continuing. "I woke up again at five and you were still sitting here. I think you were asleep by then though, the typing had stopped..."   
He looked down at Omi, and Omi looked up at him.   
"This has got to stop..."   
Omi nodded, his eyelids having drooped throughout Ken's speech. He then realised that he was falling asleep and shook himself awake before looking up again.   
Ken pointed. "Bed, now."   
Omi simply blinked through his bangs.   
Ken sighed. _"Shindai Omi-kun..."_ [Bed Omi...]   
Understanding his native word for bed more than any foreign one at present, Omi nodded slowly and rose from the chair at which he sat, and stumbled wearily towards his bed. Not even bothering to get changed, Omi fell into bed and lay there.   
Ken, shaking his head, followed Omi and coaxed him under his covers before the young boy lost consciousness completely and then went to sit on his own bed awaiting the return of the remaining members of Weiss and any news they might bring of the reason they were here. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

About half an hour passed. Ken remained seated in exactly the same position as he had done after sending Omi to bed. A light patter of rain began at the windows, getting louder as time went on. Glancing at his watch, Ken frowned. It quarter past midnight. Where were they?   
A light knock on the door answered his question. Dripping and soaked through to the skin, Aya and Yohji stalked into the apartment. After taking off huge coats and shaking out T-shirts thoroughly, Yohji and Aya took places on the edge Ken's bed.   
"Well?" Ken was the first one to speak.   
Aya shook his head.   
"Nothing," murmured Yohji. "They don't even know what he looks like yet... But Manx says they're working on it."   
Glancing across at Omi, by now securely curled into blankets, Yohji continued, pushing stray bits of hair behind his ear slowly. "How is he?"   
"Tired, irritable," said Ken in an offhanded manner. "Just as you would expect." Looking up, Ken took Aya's gaze. "How much longer is this gonna take?"   
"As long as it needs to," was the red-head's gruff response.   
Ken looked to the floor for a moment before looking up again. "I don't know how long Omi's gonna be able to hack this school thing. He doesn't like it, I know that much without him telling me."   
Aya nodded. "That doesn't make the mission go any quicker thought does it?" He paused. "Maybe he should just quit school here and catch up when we get home."   
Yohji took off his sunglasses and rubbed at the absently with a sleeve. "Would he do that even if you told him to?"   
"Probably not," murmured Ken in agreement. "He'd feel like he was running away from it."   
Yohji nodded, wondering if it was possible to convince Omi that school was a bad idea. He then decided against it.   
After a pause, Ken continued. "Do we even have a name yet?"   
"Richard Stevenson," murmured Aya, his expression not changing as he looked up to meet Ken's gaze. "18 years of age."   
Ken blinked. "18? Is that it?"   
Yohji nodded, then muttered, "The guy's father's been around. That kicked him off."   
"Doing what?"   
"Drug and gun running, kidnap, murder, rape, you name it, it's been in the family somewhere."   
Ken nodded slowly, visibly thinking hard. He then shot a look towards Omi, who was even more securely cocooned in blankets than before. He then met Aya and Yohji's gaze in turn. "How much should he know?" Aya carefully narrowed his gaze at the tuft of brown escaping from the top of the blanket. "How much should he know?" Thoughtfully, the redhead closed his eyes.   
"Nothing." 


	3. Chapter 3

**AN**: Ack! I didn't realise how small these chapters actually look! Did you know this comes to a page and a third on a word processer? Waaa!! Neeways... I already have up to chapter five written, so after that the updates will slow down somewhat... Sorry about the chapter length guys... But it can't be helped... *waves* Jaa ne! 

**Chapter 3**

"Omi Tsukiyono?"   
Slowly, Omi lifted his head up off the desk.   
"_Hai_." [Yes.]   
The teacher gave him an evil look. "I beg your pardon?"   
"_Hai... sensei_?" [Yes... Teacher?] Omi cautiously tried adding the extra word.   
Tapping the top of the register with a finger, the teacher narrowed his eyes towards Omi. "I don't care where you say you're from Mr. Tsukiyono," he muttered quietly. "In my classroom you will speak English. Do you understand?"   
Omi nodded mutely and dumbly before re-finding his voice. "_Hai..._ [Yes...] I mean, yes sir..."   
"Now, Mr. Tsukiyono, answer my register properly." He paused for effect. "Are you present?"   
Omi nodded again. "Yes sir."   
The teacher nodded curtly before continuing down the register.   
Omi sighed slightly, lowering his head back onto the desk in resignation. Today was going to be another bad day. He could feel it.   
Swearing slightly he remembered his English homework. He'd not finished it. He knew there was a reason he'd had to stay up last night. But there was nothing to be done about that now. He was just going to be told that he had another detention in a language he barely understood.   
And to be perfectly honest, the Japanese teenager was past caring.   
He looked up again towards his teacher. Their gazes locked for a moment and Omi swallowed hard. The man was foreboding and just felt, wrong, somehow.   
But then again, students and teachers were supposed to have that kind of relationship around here weren't they? May as well go with the flow, as they say.   
Having been dismissed from registration, Omi slung his bag onto his back thoughtfully. He didn't even know why they were here yet. When he'd inquired that morning about Aya and Yohji's outing last night he'd been told that there was still no information. If they had information on the target then they weren't telling him. Omi just wished they would hurry it up. Not so they could complete the mission, but just so they could get out of here.   
Just as he was approaching the door, still thinking about the mission and how quickly it would be over, someone collided with him from behind. The force slammed him into the classroom door, catching the handle under his ribs painfully.   
Clamping down on his lip determinedly, Omi took a pace backwards, clutching at his side. This was regular too. He should have been on his guard by now. He'd avoided it yesterday.   
Setting his bag down, he kept a tight grip on his injured waist and leaned heavily against the wall attempting to recapture his breath. The teacher bustled past him, pretending not to see what had just gone on, an armful of papers attempting to cover his escape.   
Omi glared at him. How could he just ignore that...? But then again, Omi supposed he was different. And everybody was afraid of things that were different. Grimacing, he took his bag up again and headed to his English lesson. The one where he was supposed to hand in homework... 

Frowning, Omi ignored the irritating voice in his ear as he zipped up his pencil case determinedly.   
"C'mon Omi? I only wanna borrow a pen..."   
"No."   
The green-eyed blonde beside him ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "A pen," he went on dramatically. "My kingdom for a pen!"   
"Keep your kingdom..."   
"Ooooomiiii!"   
"_Chigau_!" [No way!] Omi then paused realising what he'd said, the language he'd said it in, and the volume he'd said it at. "I mean," he continued quietly, glancing around. "No... You should've brought your own..."   
Tilting his head to one side curiously, the boy murmured something quietly.   
"What?"   
"_Nihongojin_?" [Japanese?]   
Omi blinked and nodded slowly. "_H... Hai... Boku wa nihongojin desu. Anata?_" [Y...Yes... I'm Japanese. You?]   
"_Iya. Gomen. Boku wa amerikajin desu._" [No. Sorry. I'm American.]   
"_Demo... Anata wa..._" [But... You're...]   
There was a rapping of a ruler on the blackboard as the petite British woman taking the class summoned their attention.   
Omi never took his gaze from the young American beside him.   
The boy glanced back towards Omi and winked. He leaned towards Omi slightly so as to mutter, "I hate to be disrespectful, but could we speak English? My Japanese is nothing to yours..."   
Omi started to reply in Japanese but cut himself short. "Yeah, but my English isn't too good..."   
"Better than my Japanese."   
Omi nodded decisively. "Okay." Then he paused and looked up quizzically. "What's your name?"   
"Richard."   
Omi nodded and smiled. He was finally making friends. Maybe things were going to get better. 


	4. Chapter 4

**AN**: Yay! People are enjoying my fic!! I am soooo happy! Well, the one after this is where I'm up to, so expect some delay in updating after that! Domo arigatou minna! 

**Chapter 4**

Three of the boys were in the apartment. Ken, Aya and Yohji were trying to amuse themselves, and to outside observers the attempts would have been comical. Aya was simply lying on his back staring at the ceiling, no doubt thinking of the next bill he was due on account of his sister's medical treatment.   
Ken was sat on the edge of his bed, attempting to balance a soccer ball on his nose half heartedly, and as a result he couldn't keep it there, frequently having to get up to retrieve it after it rolled across the room.   
Yohji, after a great deal of checking to make sure nobody had seen what he was doing, had slipped a 'naughty' magazine behind a regular gardening magazine, and was reading avidly, glancing up at intervals to check that he hadn't been found out.   
Ken looked across. "What're you reading Yohji?"   
"I... uh... a magazine."   
"Oh. Okay." Ken shrugged after looking at Yohji's flustered features in a confused manner before starting to kick the ball against the far wall.   
The truth was they were all waiting. Waiting to see who would get there first. Manx or Omi. And none of them were sure what would happen either way.   
At the light knock at the door, Yohji and Ken both sat bolt upright. Aya simply allowed his gaze to monitor the door, being the furthest away from it.   
Ken stood aside to let Manx into the apartment.   
Finally, Aya sat up and was the first to speak. "Any information?"   
"Where is Bombay?"   
"At school," supplied Yohji. "He hasn't come home yet."   
Manx nodded. "I'm afraid these are pressing times. I can't wait for him. Perhaps it's better this way..." She paused for a thoughtful moment before continuing. "We have a little more information on the mission."   
Yohji smiled slightly at Manx. "Whatcha got?"   
Manx simply gave him a withering look before brushing a curl of red hair out of her line of vision and continuing. "Your target is a boy by the name of Richard Stevenson. We want him because of his involvement with drug dealing and violent tendencies towards women..." she glanced about the three men. "If you know what I mean?"   
They all nodded. They knew she was talking about rape.   
Manx shot a look down between her feet quickly before continuing. "However, his primary flaw is his tendencies towards small children. He kidnaps these children regularly and tortures them purely for pleasure." She looked up, meeting each gaze evenly. "We have a slight problem however."   
"A problem?" murmured Aya.   
Manx nodded. "He's eighteen." Looking about and gaining no response she added, "about Bombay's age. In his grade at school."   
"What about it?" pressed Ken, a slight frown betraying a certain unease.   
"We think they could have met. Stevenson is in this approximate area. The possibility is slim, but is still present. I would advise caution in how much Bombay knows about this mission."   
"We can't cut him out," said Ken slowly.   
"I never said to do that. I only said to exercise caution." After finishing her sentence, Manx deftly dug into her briefcase and produced four packets, each containing the details of the mission. She handed one to each of the boys, except Aya to whom she handed two. "One of those is for Bombay," she said. "I leave the giving of it to him in your judgement Abyssinian."   
Aya nodded, accepting the packet. "Understood."   
Nodding to each of the boys in turn, Manx turned and left as quickly as she had come, her heels being heard to clack down the darkening streets as she disappeared into the night.   
Handing Yohji the packet that belonged to Omi, Aya muttered, "Hide this somewhere safe until we know what we're to do with it."   
Taking the package, Yohji nodded in acknowledgement and picked up his magazine from where he had left it on the bed. Ken, who caught a glimpse of what fell out, gasped. "Yohij!"   
"What?!" A maddening blush crept across the blonde's nose as he quickly bent to pick it up. "It's what I read. What's your problem Hidaka?"   
Ken grinning teasingly murmured, "I knew you were a player Yohji... But please!" Sniggering slightly, he continued, "What if Omi had found it? You would have scarred him for life!"   
Finding he couldn't handle the two large packets and the scrambling of scooping up what turned out to be two or three magazines behind the gardening disguise, Yohji put the mission details on the bed. Finally, having gathered together his 'naughty' magazines, Yohji ran through into an adjoining room to dispose of, or more accurately to hide, the evidence against him. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Trudging up the steps to the apartment, Omi put his hand into his pocket and held his keys within it tightly, his features thoughtful and distant. Today he had found someone who understood him in his native tongue. Granted, Richard wasn't very good at it, but he knew enough to get by if he needed to. This was a major breakthrough for the seventeen year old, but there was some inner sense warning him something was wrong. Or something was going to happen that he didn't like. A severe foreboding.   
Pulling his keys out of his pocket, Omi stood staring at them for a few moments. It was almost as though he was trying to grasp a few more seconds in his own quiet thought. He then raised the keys in his fist to the lock, just as someone unlocked it from inside. Yohji stood towering over Omi by almost half a metre in the doorframe. "Where'd you get to Omi?"   
Smiling and feeling suddenly elated at human company, Omi ducked under the arm Yohji was leaning against the doorframe with. "School Yohji, where else?"   
Looking behind him at the retreating Omi before turning properly, Yohji said, "How was it today?"   
Ken smiled towards Omi, seeing the youngest member of Weiss enter the room a lot more happily than he had done for the past week. "You're sure happy Omi, what happened?"   
Aya just pretended to be sleeping. Again.   
Omi grinned widely. "I found someone who speaks Japanese! He's really cool!"   
Ken and Yohji looked between each other sharing a grin at Omi's comical happiness. They were both glad to see Omi's mood improving. Worried had been an understatement. However, there was still the business that Manx had spoken of. The possibility that the boy Omi had made friends with was the target.   
Ken grimly forced the smile to stay on his face at that thought. "Great Omi. You've not been making many friends there have you?"   
Omi shook his head, his expression shadowing for a moment before renewing itself. "Nope."   
Leaning absently on the wall and brushing his ever-present strands of blonde out of his face, Yohji queried, "This new friend of yours then, does he have a name?"   
Omi nodded. "Yup, Richard."   
"Richard what?" Ken swallowed hard, hoping against hope for an alternate answer to the one he was expecting.   
Omi, noticing the slight dip in Ken's voice, looked up to see the dark haired boy a few shades paler than usual. "_Ken-kun_...?" [Ken...?]   
Ken, realising that his guise was slipping, looked to Yohji for support. The blonde, behind Omi, simply shrugged.   
Ken looked towards Omi. "What's Richard's surname?"   
"Stevenson... _Doushite_?" [Why?]   
Ken sighed, knowing that from here onwards things were only going to get more difficult. "No reason Omi, I was just curious."   
Omi, after holding Ken with a confused air for a few seconds, turned and allowed his gaze to rove the room. His eyes fell on the manila envelope Manx had brought with her earlier. "What's that?"   
Suddenly, realising that he had left it on the bed after going to dispose of his 'magazines', Yohji sprung towards the envelope, snatching it up hastily. "Just some mail I got Omi... Don't worry about it..."   
Omi frowned at Yohji, having caught a glimpse of his own name on the front first. "But we're collecting our mail when we get home Yohji... There's no way it could have gotten here..." His brow furrowing, Omi held out a hand and continued. "That had my name on it Yohji. Give it here please."   
Hesitating, Yohji shook his head. "No, Omi..."   
"Why?"   
Suddenly, sitting up and having heard enough, Aya said sternly, "Because it has ceased to be your business."   
Omi blinked at the words. "Ceased to be my...? Huh? I don't understand..." After a few moments of silence, the boy continued. "Those are mission details, right Aya?"   
"So what if they are?" Aya raised an eyebrow slightly.   
"But don't you guys get it?!" Omi's voice rose in earnest as he gestured wildly to encourage his statement. "You can't do this! I need to know what's going on!"   
Aya narrowed his gaze at the youngest in the room almost patronisingly. "What you don't know can't hurt you."   
Omi swung his gaze towards Aya. "You all know who the target is don't you?" The silence that followed answered an affirmative. "So why won't you tell me?!"   
"Because," Ken's voice came across the room, clear cut and strong against the backdrop of silence after Omi's query. "You're out of this mission."   
"Out of the...?!" Omi gaped wildly, unable to even finish his sentence. "What gives you the right to...?"   
"We're your friends Omi," murmured Yohji quietly, brushing a rogue strand of blond hair behind an ear and almost not being heard. "That gives us the right to watch out for you doesn't it?"   
"Maybe, but it sure as hell doesn't give you the right to make decisions for me!"   
Aya snorted before standing. "Then we're in the wrong aren't we Omi? But that's such a shame, because there's nothing you can do about it." He made for the door, thrusting his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans as he did so. He paused briefly and turned back towards Omi, his single earring glinting in the lamplight. "Study hard. Yohji and I are going after the target. Ken is staying to baby-sit." Wincing, Ken looked towards Omi, who was nearly blue in the face with pure anger and embarrassment.   
Then, beckoning to Yohji and shooting a slight, almost apologetic, glance at Ken, Aya took his coat and the envelopes, before taking the door handle in his hand and turning it with a squeak, pushing it open before him. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Omi, eyes wide, watched Aya and Yohji leave. Listening as the door let loose a muffled click behind Yohji, Omi sat heavily on the nearest bed, snatching his cap from his head. "W… What just happened? I think I missed it Ken…"   
Ken said nothing, but kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Aya hadn't been at all considerate about this. Ken was going to rip him apart. But perhaps at a later date. "I'm sorry Omi," he murmured. "But we have reasons for this… Honest."   
Omi turned his gaze on Ken. "Like what?"   
Ken sighed. "I can't tell you… That's the whole point."   
"What did I do? Does it have something to do with the target?"   
Ken remained silent, studying the floor carefully.   
Omi sighed, feeling his fingernails digging into his palms. He couldn't believe this. Why? What had Omi done wrong that they wouldn't tell him about?   
Bending down, Omi undid his trainers, savagely tearing at the laces as though they were burning him. This made him so mad… He wanted to hit something.   
"_Omi-kun…?_" [Omi…?] Inquired Ken gently.   
"_Dame desu!_" [Don't!] snapped Omi, stopping but not looking up from the floor, still bent at an awkward angle in the process of tearing the trainer off his foot. Slowly he let his hand slip from the heel. "Don't talk to me Ken… I'm not in a good mood right now…"   
Ken frowned at the noticeable shiver running through Omi's voice. "_Naa, Omi-kun… Gomen nasai…_" [Hey, Omi… Sorry…]   
"SHUT UP!" yelled Omi, snapping his head up. He stood sharply, the loose shoelace flicking out wildly. His shoe made a small 'thunk' on the floor as he slammed upright.   
"Omi, I will not be yelled at. Not by you, not by anyone." Ken's voice was audibly being kept in check as the dark haired boy wrestled with his temper. He sighed quietly. "Sit down."   
Omi's eyes narrowed at the soccer-player. "I'm not gonna be told what to do Ken. Don't you dare tell me to sit down!"   
"I SAID SIT DOWN OMI!" By this point, Ken too was on his feet.   
"_Boku wa juu-nana desu, Ken-kun!_" [I am 17 Ken!] Omi continued to glare at Ken. "I will be damned if you think you're babysitting me, okay?!"   
"I'm in charge here, you will listen to me! You goddit?"   
"I don't believe what I'm hearing Ken!" yelled Omi indignantly. By this point both boys were yelling at fairly decent volumes. "Do you know what they've just done? You guys have just kicked me out of a mission! Think about it!"   
"Look, Omi! We have a reason for that okay?! It's not like it's some sick pleasure we get from telling you to keep your nose out!"   
"What? It's not like the sick pleasure you get from murdering someone?!"   
As soon as Omi had yelled the words he wished he could take them back. But he didn't get too much of a chance as Ken lashed forward and took a handful of Omi's shirt, pulling him so close that the Japanese boys were almost nose-to-nose. Ken knuckles flew into Omi's view and the next thing Omi knew was that he was on his knees on the floor with a hand to his reddening cheek and aching jaw. Ken had just punched him…   
Almost instantly Ken was down by Omi's side with an arm at each of the teenager's shoulders. "Omi? Omi, gee I'm sorry… I…"   
Omi raised his free hand to try and swat Ken away. But Ken refused to be swatted away, helping Omi pull upright.   
"_Daijoubou desu ka?_" [Are you okay?]   
Omi nodded, gently prodding at an already swelling cheek. "_Hai, daijoubou desu._" [Yeah, I'm okay.] He made eye contact with Ken, a guilty expression on his face. "_Gomen ne Ken-kun…_ [Sorry Ken…] I shouldn't have said that…"   
Ken helped Omi to straighten up. "Hey, you had every right to go ballistic." Ken smiled grimly. "But I have instructions… I'm sorry…"   
Omi nodded gently, shifting to a sitting position, keeping his hand to his cheek. "Where do I go to get the information?"   
"Aya…"   
Omi sighed. That was hopeless. You had as much chance of getting information out of Aya as finding Yohji reading a "real" gardening magazine… Not too likely…   
The teenager looked up at Ken curiously. So what was Ken hiding?   
"You can't tell me anything?"   
Ken shook his head slowly. "Not a thing Omi…"   
Omi nodded and moved to sit on the bed again, slowly removing his trainers and setting them neatly on the floor by his bed. "Okay…" He paused. "I'm sorry I yelled Ken… I shouldn't have…"   
Ken smiled slightly, having expected more of a reaction from the younger teenager. "It's okay Omi. Don't worry about it."   
Smiling tentatively Omi nodded and then leaned over to his schoolbag, retrieving two exercise books and a pen. Opening one of the books he lay lengthways on his bed and began to chew the end of the pen thoughtfully, trying to read through the information in front of him and translate it in his head.   
After a long pause, Ken murmured, "No computer tonight?"   
Omi shook his head mutely. "Not right now."   
"Why not?"   
Omi smiled slightly. "I'm finishing last night's homework later. It's going to have been late now so it hardly makes a difference."   
There was another uneasy pause. "How you doing?"   
"Fine." The curtness of the reply told Ken it was false.   
He sighed. "Omi, you want me to read it aloud to you?"   
Copying the soccer player's sigh, Omi nodded and handed Ken the book. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Smiling slightly, Omi closed his second book triumphantly. Then he turned his gaze back on Ken. "That was cheating right?"   
Ken shrugged and then nodded. "Yup, but only if we were planning to stay here, which we aren't. So I guess it's alright."   
Omi leaned over to push his books back into his schoolbag, and as he stretched to his full reach, Ken caught the boy wincing slightly and saw Omi's hand move instinctively to his waist.   
"Omi?"   
The action was over as quickly as it had started. Omi blinked and looked up. "Hai?" [Yes?] He sat upright on the bed, fully suspecting what Ken had just seen. He was suddenly acutely aware of the bruise beneath his shirt, which had begun to throb painfully.   
"You okay?"   
Omi nodded. "Yeah. Fine."   
"You just… before…" Ken trailed off, frowning at the guilt behind Omi's eyes. "Lift up your shirt."   
"What?"   
"Lift up your shirt please."   
Sighing and caught out Omi obeyed, revealing the blackened patch of skin for Ken's observation.   
Ken simply blinked broadly before clearing his throat. "I didn't do that Omi." He spoke the sentence as a question, not a statement.   
Omi shook his head mutely, pulling his shirt securely down over his waist again.   
"So who did?"   
"A door…"   
Ken glared. "I'm being serious Omi…"   
"Me too!" protested the youth. "I walked into a door!"   
"Am I supposed to believe that?"   
Omi's reply was sarcastic. "I was kinda hoping so, since it's the truth."   
Omi's insistence threw Ken as he weighed up the youth's words carefully. Given Omi's height it was fully possible. But walking into a door?   
"Are you sure you're telling me the truth?"   
Omi nodded.   
"Then you're pretty clumsy. You lose your balance or what?"   
Omi smirked slightly. "Shoved from behind. Teacher saw it and everything."   
"Geez. That's not right." Ken frowned at Omi, who continued to put on a brave face.   
"It's not a problem. I'm coping okay." He smiled reassuringly before continuing. "When are Yohji and Aya getting back?"   
Ken, still frowning at Omi's claims, said slowly, "Soon, they weren't out for long."   
Kicking out full-length on the bed and tucking his hands behind his head Omi sighed, his gaze focused on the light fixture in the centre of the ceiling. "Aya's attitude sucks."   
Ken nodded, looking towards Omi and remembering the painful-looking bruise under the boy's shirt. "I'm not sure what's gotten into him. Maybe he's just looking out for you."   
Omi snorted at Ken's suggestion. "I don't know how I've riled him, but I have somehow. I just wish he'd tell me."   
"Like I said, he's probably just worried."   
"_Doushite_?" [Why?] Omi's voice was almost challenging.   
Ken picked up one of Omi's schoolbooks and held it up. "_Kore wa_." [This.] He returned it to Omi's bag and sighed slightly. "We all think you should quit school now and catch up back in Japan. It would be easier on your part."   
"I'm not quitting," muttered Omi stubbornly. "Nobody can make me."   
"I know Omi, we're not trying to. We just want to…"   
"Make sure the trauma isn't too much for you," concluded Aya snidely, stepping in the door with Yohji behind him. "You're still only young after all."   
Omi stiffened, but held his tongue. "Shut up Aya."   
Looking over Omi's head to Ken, Aya said, "Still no information on the whereabouts of the target."   
Omi narrowed his gaze at Aya. "Am I just supposed to ignore that?"   
"Ignore what?"   
"You guys are deliberately pushing me out of this mission, can you at least refrain from talking about it around me?!"   
Aya narrowed his own gaze at the boy's raised tone. "I thought you were mature enough to understand that some things don't concern you."   
"Make up your mind! Am I young or mature?!"   
Aya shrugged his jacket off and hung it on a peg, water dripping off it and onto the floor. "Both I suppose."   
"What's that supposed to mean?!"   
"Whatever you want it to."   
Ken cast a worried glance at Yohji before glaring at Aya. He murmured a low warning. "Aya…"   
Yohji looked just as worried, suddenly wondering what had happened between Ken and Omi in his absence.   
"Aya, will you stop shrugging me off like this?! All I want is a straight answer from you! What's going on?!"   
"Omi, will you STOP YELLING AT ME!?" Aya pinned the youngest in the room under a vicious glare, his voice having shaken Omi into temporary silence. "What I tell children about my affairs is my own business."   
Omi paused, as though planning ahead before saying boldly, "I need some air." Before anyone could say anything to contradict him, Omi had snatched his jacket off the peg beside Aya's own jacket. He ripped the door open and said in a low and controlled voice without facing his audience, "Maybe I'll come home tonight. Don't wait up for me though."   
Pulling the door behind him viciously with a crash, the young boy disappeared into the night. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Aya?! What the hell was that?!" Ken's voice was raised well above the level he would usually speak at as he stepped forward, fixing Aya with a piercing glare. "Do you realise what I spent the last two hours actually doing?!"   
Aya watched Ken with a level gaze. "Enlighten me."   
Ken's eyes widened in surprise at Aya's non-committal response. "Telling him that you really weren't being mean and malicious, and you really did care about him. Maybe you should take that into consideration before anything else!"   
Aya blinked mutely at Ken's words. He wasn't being that nasty, was he? Silently Aya sat and pulled his shoes off. "He'll be back."   
Yohji, silent so far in the conversation, spoke quietly. "How can you tell?"   
"He's just a kid, in a country he knows nothing about. He won't go far."   
Ken narrowed his gaze, but had to admit that he agreed with Aya. Omi probably just wanted some time to think. If he needed them, he would call. But still… "Maybe that's his problem Aya."   
Aya glanced up. "What is?"   
"You still think of him as a kid." 

Omi walked. It was something he didn't have to think about. He walked and sloshed through puddles mindlessly, not caring where he was headed. It wasn't a priority. First thing he wanted to do was clear his head. He coaxed a hand out of his pocket to pull the peak of his cap into a position to protect his eyes from the fat drops of water attacking him.   
He couldn't remember a time he'd been reprimanded like that. Like he was just a little kid. He wasn't like that. Omi knew for a fact that, although he was the youngest of them, he was also the guy to settle all the arguments between each member of the small family. That justified him a little respect didn't it? It wasn't like he asked for much, just a chance to be accepted. And Aya, whatever was bothering him, was refusing Omi that chance.   
So what did this mean?   
Omi didn't know.   
He heard his foot connect with a can at his feet and kicked at it absently. But instead of being the stereotypical can and skittering right across the pavement, it clunked a little way and then rolled to an abrupt halt. It was half full of water, making it heavier to kick. For a second Omi stopped, looking down at the can, raindrops bouncing of it, him and the pavement relentlessly.   
"Doushite?!" [Why?!] he yelled, savagely thrusting his foot into the can with surprising force, sending it skittering heavily into the road. He watched as it slammed into the opposite curb and came skidding back towards him, surprise making him unable to move in time to avoid the sharp, folded and waterlogged can slicing into his sock and through the skin on his ankle. "K'so!" [Damn!] he hissed, standing upright where he was with his teeth gently squeezing his lower lip, momentarily refusing to investigate. Then he slowly kneeled on the rain-soaked pavement nursing his ankle gently. It was a graze, just a slight covering of blood, but it had already stopped bleeding. He rubbed it again for good measure before pulling up his torn sock and standing, a pained expression on his face.   
Thrusting his hands into his pockets, he decided to continue walking. All he wanted to do was to think and, strangely he supposed, the boy thought better on his feet. He listened as his footsteps provided a steady backdrop for the rain and he steadily walked and walked. 

Yohji glanced at his watch for the third time in ten minutes. "Where is he?" he murmured irritably, tucking his hands behind his head and kicking the chair he was sat on back onto two legs. Omi had left, into the dark, three hours ago.   
Ken studied his palms distractedly. He couldn't answer Yohji's question. He looked towards Aya. "You certain he's going to come back?"   
Aya, although he did not speak, looked at his own wristwatch and sighed. Five past twelve at night. "We'll give him another hour. Then we'll consider doing something."   
"But what if he's in trouble?"   
Aya looked to Yohji's gaze. "What if he's not?" Aya allowed Yohji's brief silence before continuing. "We've come to find him. We've treated him like a child again. We'll be worse off than we are now." Aya closed his eyes again, sighing gently. "We'll treat him like the adult he wants to be seen as. For better or for worse. At least for another hour."   
Lapsing into silence, the room retrieved the thick blanket of unrest it had been hiding under for the past three hours. Aya, with his eyes still closed, pondered the situation deeply. What was up with Omi? Being the youngest, even when Omi was forty and the others older than that, he would still be the one they looked out for most. Did the youth just have problems understanding that?   
Or had Aya's previous bad temper helped? Aya wasn't stupid, he was well aware that he'd been in an awful temper lately. Had that been it then? They'd carted themselves out here a whole week ago, and while Omi had school to go to, the others had had to endure each other's company all day every day. Aya wasn't used to being a people person, and they didn't even have walls between them when they slept at night. Aya valued his privacy above all else except his younger sister and perhaps, only perhaps, his team-mates.   
But none of this had been aimed at Omi deliberately. Aya was certain he was only looking after the youngest of them.   
Aya sighed again in defeat as he felt someone's gaze scan him warily, gauging whether or not he was truly sleeping. This was going to be one of the longest hours of his life. 


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Just interrupting you all briefly! I'd just like to give my sincerest apologies to "Rabbit Yinyueduo"... I nicked the idea my friend... And you have my apologies! Here and irl! *grins* I already told her that, but hey! Anyway... Please continue!! \/O_~ 

**Chapter 9**

Omi rubbed at his arms desperately. His jacket felt like a sponge, cold and waterlogged. He glanced at his wrist but found no watch there. Absently he noted that he should head back soon. He'd been gone at least half an hour by his reckoning, although given the attention he'd been paying to the time he could've been gone for hours. He continued in the same direction doggedly, looking to all intents and purposes that he wasn't going home at all. 

Aya stood slowly, glancing at the clock. His team-mates had been very lenient. It was now brushing on two o'clock.   
"Aya?" Aya looked towards Ken.   
"I think it's about time we went to find out what he thinks he's playing at."   
Yohji stood in his turn and glanced at the redhead. "One of us should stay here. In case he calls."   
Aya blinked in mild surprise, but took the hint. They didn't want Omi to create a scene because of his differences with Aya. They just wanted him to come home with the minimum of objections. Aya nodded. "Fine, I'll stay and wait for a call. But I want you two to call every hour. You understand?"   
Ken nodded as he quietly released the locks to let himself out. "Fine, on the hour."   
Aya rose to see them both out, catching Yohji's eye as he did so. Yohji held the gaze for several seconds, before bowing his eyes downwards and following Ken in search of their missing piece. 

Omi felt awful. That was the only way to put it. The rain had stopped, but a cold breeze had picked up, going right through the jacket as though it wasn't there. Water dripped off Omi's bangs, his cap having been discarded long ago. He took a breath and shivered. But he felt too warm. His forehead felt clammy, despite the chilling wind blowing against his brow.   
He sat on the curb, hugging himself hard through his waterlogged jacket. His head fell downwards towards his chest as he slowly slipped towards sleep. But then he blinked and looked up. There was no way he was going to fall asleep sitting on some curb in the middle of nowhere. Anything could happen. Shakily he pushed himself to his feet. He simply felt ill and still confused by the events of the previous evening. He could feel a deep flush across his cheeks and he felt physically sick.   
His gaze drifted skywards and he gulped, suddenly in a state of pure and utter fear. There was no way… The sun was already rising. And… Where was he? Omi looked around. He didn't recognise anything. But… He hadn't been walking that long. Honestly, he had meant to go back…   
He felt tears of panic and exhaustion standing in his eyes and the lump in his throat vying for domination. What should he do…? Feeling in his pocket Omi felt his shivering fingers clutch around a quarter. This was it. He would phone home. He had memorised the number the day they had arrived.   
Looking up Omi scanned the street he was on. A phone booth stood on the corner, looking almost as cold and afraid as Omi felt. Forcing himself to walk forwards Omi approached the booth warily, despite all else being warily of the smashed in windows and scattered glass surrounding it. Stepping in he dropped the quarter into the slot and dialled his home phone number, still shivering almost uncontrollably and still feeling as though he was going to collapse with a fever. 

The phone rung loudly. Aya, having put himself within arms reach, leant over and picked it up. "Hello?"   
There was a pause on the other end, accompanied by laboured breathing, before Omi's voice finally seemed to push out of the receiver. "_Aya-kun_?" [Aya?]   
Blinking and overcome with both surprise and relief at the sound of Omi's voice, Aya asked quickly, "_Daijoubou desu ka_?" [Are you okay?]   
Omi swallowed audibly. "_Hai, daijoubou desu…_" [Yes, I'm okay…]   
Aya frowned as a small sob escaped Omi's throat, but passed no comment. "_Anata, doko_?" [Where are you?]   
"_Boku wa nakunatta desu…_" [I'm lost…]   
"_Nani_?!" [What?!]   
Omi's voice was quieter than it had been beforehand as he murmured, "_Boku wa nakunatta desu Aya-kun…_" [I'm lost Aya…]   
"Hai," [Right,] murmured Aya distractedly, reaching under the small table the phone was perched on and producing a street map. "_Gairo no namae ka_?" [Street name?]   
"_Wakarimasen…_" [I don't know…]   
"_Mimawasu_." [Look around.]   
Obediently Omi looked about and, squinting in the morning sunlight read the name on the street sign aloud to Aya.   
Frowning Aya demanded Omi spell out what he'd just said, noting that the youth was probably pronouncing it the same way you would pronounce romanji. Omi spelt out the street name and Aya flipped through the pages, tutting to himself at random intervals to let Omi know he was still there.   
"_Aya-kun?_" [Aya?]   
"_Hai_?" [Yeah?]   
"_Boku wa…_" [I'm…]   
Aya's eyes widened as he heard a single click from Omi's end of the phone. "_Matte! Omi-kun!_" [Wait! Omi!]   
Then sighing, the redhead replaced the receiver he was holding in its cradle. Omi's money must have run out. Taking the map and finding the relevant street Aya was amazed. It would take him at least an hour in a car to travel that distance. Omi must have been walking flat out all night, in the pouring rain. That kid had issues.   
Aya took his coat up off the peg it was hung on and tucked the map away in the folds of it. Then, also taking up Ken's helmet and motorcycle keys, Aya went to retrieve Omi from his little excursion. 


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** Just before I move directly into the next chapter I'd just like to thank all of you for your input… Those of you who noticed, it is "Nihonjin" and not "Nihongojin" for Japanese people… since Nihonjin directly translates to "Japan-People" *bows* Domo arigatou gozaimasu minna-san! I should get round to changing it eventually O_o!!! 

**Chapter 10**

Frowning and sighing, Aya took the map out of the many folds of his jacket and scanned it again. He was lost… He of all people.   
With a cry of mild annoyance Aya thrust it back into his coat and kicked the pedal hard, sending a plume of smoke out behind him as he zoomed noisily down the street. Small children were always trouble. Always small children. But then Aya reprimanded himself. That kind of thinking was what had caused this in the first place.   
Taking mental notes of street names he passed, Aya delved deeper into his thoughts. What was Omi's method of thinking? Why had he stormed off like that? Because they were trying to protect him? But what was wrong with protecting someone you valued?   
Did Aya-chan think of her elder brother in the same way? Did she frown upon him now in his efforts to protect her? And worse of all… was this her revenge? What he was having to live through for her sake? To see her beautiful eyes look to him again?   
His brows knitted in thought and frustration. Skidding a corner so sharply that his knee scraped the floor, Aya still kept his firm gaze fixedly ahead.   
No, he decided. She didn't want revenge. 

Sitting on the curb, Omi continued to shiver. What was he thinking? He didn't know… He didn't know what he was thinking anymore. He just wanted to sleep. But Omi was an intelligent boy, he knew that sleeping on a curb in a random street was bound to lead to trouble. His unfocused gaze lay on the street before him lazily.   
"I'm just a little kid," he murmured, not aware that his thoughts were conveying into words. "I don't count for anything… I wouldn't understand. I… I…" Trailing off the teenager sobbed gently, his chest lunging desperately past the tightness hemming it in. "_Doushite_!?" [Why?!]   
Trembling, Omi hugged his knees to his chest with a gentle sigh. Why had he come all this way? Why was he so confused? Why didn't his team-mates trust him? "_Doushite, doushite, doushite,_ [why, why, why]" the boy murmured. "_Naze ka_?" [Why is it?]   
Closing his eyes, Omi rested his wet forehead against his equally wet knees. He had so many questions. Questions that, a few hours ago, would never have entered his mind as more than fleeting irrelevancies, to be scolded and forgotten in a moment. Now he was on the verge of doubting his very life.   
The boy was crying now. He couldn't deny it. What was dripping from his jawline could no longer be classed as rainwater. It had too much of himself in it.   
Omi wondered if Aya was ever going to come. His money had run out in the booth over an hour ago. Maybe his doubts were accurate. Maybe he didn't mean anything to anybody. It just wasn't fair! Nobody understood him, or accepted him for what he was anymore! If only…   
"_Dare ka?! Omi-kun!?_" [Who is it?! Omi?!]   
Blinking tearstained eyes, Omi looked up to see the redhead had dropped the bike in the road and was running towards him. His expression could have been described as relieved had it been any person other than Aya displaying it. Bending to Omi and hoisting him to his feet, Aya did a most unusual thing. He hugged the boy hard. "_Daijoubou ka_?" [Are you alright?]   
Omi nodded quietly in the embrace. "_Un, daijoubou_." [Yeah, I'm okay.]   
"_Magi_?" [Really?]   
Omi paused. "I'm a little tired… And I think I've got flu. But, yeah, I'm okay."   
Releasing the hug, Aya cast a critical eye over Omi, recomposing himself and feeling highly embarrassed. "You look a little pale, you sure you're alright?"   
"I'm too warm," murmured Omi, noting the predominantly warning glare. "I think I caught flu." He repeated his earlier words meekly, as though in repeating them the problem would vanish.   
Rolling his eyes to himself and guiding a submissive Omi quietly by the shoulders, Aya reminded himself of his previous words. Pulling the bike up from the pavement, Aya helped Omi on and strapped Ken's helmet to the boy's head, relieved to have a reason to be rid of such a horrendous-looking piece of equipment. "Always small children," he murmured to himself, a note of fondness in his voice. "Never an exception."   
"_Nani_?" [What?]   
Aya shook his head. He mounted the bike behind Omi and reached past the boy to the handles, his arms almost making a protective barrier at either side of his companion.   
"_Betsuni Omi-kun, betsuni_." [Nothing Omi, nothing.] 


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:** Okay, I know this update has been a looooooooong time in coming. And don't hold your breath. I'm having a busy time irl in school and I don't have so much time for writing anymore. But thanks a bunch to everyone who's stuck around and checked in every so often - I appreciate that! Sorry if this chapters a little shoddy, my usual proof readers haven't picked through it yet since I wanted to get it up quickly. I'll edit it if anything major rears its ugly head! ^_^ 

**Chapter 11**

Finally turning into the street where Weiss were staying, Aya helped Omi from the bike and secured it where he had taken it from, and lead the soaked youth to the door. Omi scrabbled with the helmet strap, not being a fashion-conscious person by nature, but in desperate want to get rid of the most horrendous bike helmet to ever have been made. This one was possibly the last one in existence as all the others would have been burned by now in sheer disgust.   
Mounting the steps ahead of Omi, Aya pushed the doorbell and heard the scramble from within. Ken had evidently won the race to the door, pulling it open hard and peering out accusingly at the redhead. Yohji's head appeared shortly afterwards, comically at Ken's shoulder. "Omi?! Where've you been?" Ken's voice was a mixture of relief and attempted authority.   
Yohji's was pure relief. "Are you okay?"   
Omi's response was to simply nod tiredly. Aya, returning to his usual cold and collected self, pushed quietly past Ken and Yohji. "Towel off your hair and go to bed Omi," he murmured. "You can go to school tomorrow if you want to, but I don't advise it."   
Omi nodded again, plodding past a surprised Ken and Yohji towards the bathroom, discarding a sodden jacket on his way, to change into nightclothes. In Omi's case this consisted of shorts and a large T-shirt, which he returned in a short while later, his hair ruffled from obedient towelling off. "Oyasumi," [Goodnight,] he murmured before flopping into bed, watched worriedly by Ken and Yohji as he did so. Aya, having discarded his coat and shoes, was lying on his bed, eyes closed, making like he was asleep.   
After several minutes of silence had passed, Ken murmured, "Why didn't you leave a note or something Aya?"   
The redhead didn't look up. "Should I have done?"   
"Yeah, we were worried. We rang and you weren't home, we came home and my bike was missing." Ken sighed in exasperation. "Other people worry about things too Aya. Not just you."   
There was a stifling pause, during which the only sound was Omi snoring gently and shifting in his sleep. Yohji sighed and picked up where Ken left off. "How was he?"   
Aya sighed, not used to having to console worried friends. "Cold, afraid and ill." He opened his violet gaze and glared at Ken and Yohji in turn. "We didn't argue, don't worry. He came with me willingly." Aya closed his eyes again, a light frown pulling at his lips. "Tomorrow we may have words. But not right now. He's more mature than he lets on."   
Yohji and Ken looked to each other quizzically. Aya was, to put it bluntly, confusing. Couldn't he make up his mind what he thought of Omi? Surely that would help the boy, even if letting him know he had every right to yell and scream at the redhead. As it stood, Omi couldn't be sure what reaction he was supposed to give.   
Ken looked down and sighed a little, but refrained from passing comment, unsure what comment to actually pass. Yohji too seemed to have taken the same attitude, pushing a few strands of blonde from his eyes mutely.   
"What am I supposed to say to him?"   
Yohji and Ken blinked towards Aya cautiously as the man spoke, his violet gaze open and glaring at the ceiling. He continued, his voice hard and cold. "What am I supposed to say to him? I'm doing it all wrong, I can tell by the way you're looking at each other." He glanced at Yohji accusingly, and the blonde lowered his gaze to the floor, studying his toes. "So what am I supposed to say?"   
Ken frowned a little at the repetition of the phrase. Could Aya possibly be insecure? It was a curious thought, for the redhead, the 'leader' as it was, to be unsure about anything. Giving a brotherly smile Ken looked down and then back to Aya. "Say whatever comes naturally Aya." He held up a hand quietly as Aya glared and opened his mouth to object. "'What I tell children about my own affairs' is not what would come naturally, Aya. Omi cares what you think about him, contrary to popular belief. I think you have to understand that, or this situation is not going to get any better any time soon."   
Aya's reaction to that assessment was to narrow his gaze at the soccer player for a few moments, before snorting and returning his gaze to the ceiling. However, Ken couldn't have sworn he hadn't seen a brief nod before Aya's gaze left his. Looking towards Yohji, Ken shrugged. What was he supposed to do now? Anything? Nothing?   
Probably nothing. It would be less hazardous. Ken smiled slightly at the thought. He was always the one for a challenge. In the light of this, some sort of action was called for. The question was, what? 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chpater 12**

Despite warnings, Omi _did_ decide to go to school the following day. A packet of tissues didn't come amiss in the teenager's pocket as he sat, again in his English class, and pulled them out.   
"Now then," the English teacher scribbled on the board as she spoke, "Shakespeare used pathetic fallacy in the storm that Lear goes into, because it reflects his mood and…"   
Omi took this unfortunate moment to sneeze – loudly – into his tissue. He rubbed at his nose a few times before noticing people staring at him oddly. Sighing, and his cheeks tingeing red, he laid the packet carefully on the desk and took up his pen again. Nothing had gone right so far, why should they start to now?   
"After the lesson please, Mr. Tsukiyono."   
Omi just nodded wearily and let her continue the lesson, returning into his own thoughts and letting the entirety of what she said glide blissfully over him. He didn't care if King Lear had daughters who didn't give a damn about him. The sting of being squeezed out of the mission was still hurting, but it wasn't something you could really explain to anyone. Absently he began drawing kanji on his exercise book, all types of moods, sad, miserable, irritated, all sorts of words to explain himself.   
Richard nudged him. "Owch… Something bugging you?"   
Omi nodded, staring at his page, which was by now full of kanji. And not one of them appeared to do his present frame of mind justice.   
"Anything I can help with?"   
Omi shook his head. "Not really…"   
Richard paused for a moment, watching Omi continue to scratch at his notebook. "You seen much of the town yet? There's not much around but…" The blonde boy cautiously let the offer hang, as the rumble of casual class chatter rose again, letting them speak more freely.   
Omi blinked and looked up. "_Honto ni_?" [Really?]   
"_Magi_." [Really.] Said Richard, smiling a little at Omi's tone of voice.   
"_Demo_..." [But…] Murmured Omi before checking himself and switching languages. "I have to go straight home."   
"Why?" Richard shrugged and rested his head on a hand, watching the Japanese teenager intently. "You live with your brothers, right?"   
Omi nodded.   
"So, who are they to boss you around? If it was your parents, fine I get that. But brothers aren't parents. They've got no right to be bossing you around."   
"Yeah, but…"   
"But what? You don't let them boss you around do you?" There was a hint of scorn in Richard's voice that Omi couldn't miss, no matter how sick he was. He rubbed at his nose again with a tissue, thinking. There wasn't really a reason he had to go straight home, they just got twitchy if he was out too long. They said he was 'vulnerable'. Even as he thought the word he was angry again. How old did they think he was anyway? This was beyond stupid. If they were going to kick him out of a mission, they obviously didn't need him around for anything important, so why shouldn't he go out?   
He nodded for a few moments before speaking. "Sure, I'll go. I have nothing important going on." 

Meanwhile, the three others of Weiss weren't exactly having a peachy time of it. There was to be precision timing in this mission, not least because of the fact that there were two targets to be taken out simultaneously. Aya didn't understand the specifics of that, nor did he want to. It just was. And if it was, one thing it wasn't was to be argued with.   
However, what all this precision meant was that Weiss was to get very bored, very quickly. Yohji had been given the title of "lead shopper" with Ken as his helper. They got out of the house at least. And Aya was grateful of that. It gave his mind a little room to think about what was going on. Most of that afternoon Aya spent berating himself about letting Omi even go to school. They knew that target was Omi's age. They'd even placed him in the area. So why the hell were they letting the brunette even go to school? He was ill, and he'd been having a hard time of it as it was. He wanted to go, Aya reminded himself sharply. He wants to be treated like an adult. The redhead looked up then, his gaze on the ceiling. "So... if he wants to be so mature, can't I even treat him like a friend?" 

**AN:** Another reeeeeeeally short chapter. I admit. And don't look for any regularity... I apologise for that :( But many many thanks to Ryoko who sent me email demanding I get my butt in gear ^_^;; See? Mailing authors does reap rewards! And don't ask about the "simultaneous targets" – that's a problem to be solved in another chapter ~_~;; 


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